Well, like I said, I'm 16 years old. I'm a young Indian woman living in the Southern United States (heart of Southern Baptist country), and my parents are avid Hindus. Until I was fourteen, I had no real thoughts on religion. In fact, I had no real thoughts on much of anything. Rather, I just sort of (pardon the following atrocious phrase!) farted around, not bothering to think about anything. Naturally, most all the evangelizing types loved me, hoping that they could score some extra points with the Big G by converting me. Always being somewhat of a pushover, I would come along to their churches and listen to their sermons. Never did I accept the crap they were pushing down my throat but I kept coming to church, having them pray for me.

One day, in particular, when I was fourteen, they (they being a couple of peers at school) took me to a passion play. After the play, the preacher got up and started yelling and screaming. Suddenly, I was overcome with emotion, and it was that night that I chose agnosticism (and later atheism, but the atheism was a gradual tale). Here is how I describe that night:

The Miracle of the Self

There was a fire in his belly, and his mouth was the flame thrower, shooting the blazing words directly at me. I took on the defensive and tried to extinguish the flames of the man in the front with my anguished tears. It was to no avail.
"He died for you!" I scanned the eyes of everyone else sitting on their pews. There was nodding and acceptance, amen and hallelujah. The fire was meant for me.
"What will you do for him?"
I wiped the sweat from my brow; it was growing hot and intense.
"Accept him into your heart, and you shall have eternal life. Deny him, and you shall have eternal torment."
As I felt my soul charring from within, the man in the front, satisfied, patted his stomach and closed his mouth. My time was my own.
"It was great, wasn't it?" several voices seemed to chorus. I turned towards them, and they gasped as they gazed upon me. They could not see the flames, but they could see the tears.
"What's wrong?"
"You didn't like it?"
"Do you feel the power of the lord?"
"Do you want to accept him as your savior?"
I had no answers for their many and superfluous questions. I was desperately trying to soothe the scorching pain within, and they could do nothing. They fed me words and even ice-cream, but they only fueled the fire.
Eventually, they loosened their grasp on me, and I was allowed to go home. I went into my room--my personal realm of security--where I laid upon my bed, looking up at my ceiling. I was still burning, and I deeply desired an answer from above to cool the insatiable rage of the flames. However, my eyes grew tired of staring aimlessly at the horizontal wall, so they found their gaze slipping down into an uncharted domain--my heart.
"I am who I am. Nothing can change that. I shall be the best I can be, until the day I die. What happens then I do not know, but I will know that I did my best, and that is all I can offer."
The fire was extinguished.

Still with me? Well, thanks for letting me share, and keep up the good work with your page!